As the Grange party left the room, Lord Carfield came up.
“Where is your friend, Mr. Faradeane, Bertie?” he asked. “I wish you would introduce me. I never heard Hood’s poem better done.”
Bertie, who had Olivia on his arm, looked round and beckoned to Faradeane.
“My father,” he said, “wants to know you, Faradeane.”
Mr. Faradeane came forward and bowed.
The old earl looked at him with a rather puzzled expression.
“Haven’t I seen you before, Mr. Faradeane?” he said.
Mr. Faradeane looked him steadily in the face.
“I think not, Lord Carfield,” he said.
“No! That’s strange. I had a fancy that we had met before this. Allow me to thank you for an intellectual treat. Your recital of ‘Eugene Aram’ was remarkably good; remarkably good. I never heard it better done, never.”